Title: Seven-Eight
Featuring: Kazuchika Okada; Minoru Suzuki (mentions of Okada/Omega)
Disclaimer: Canon typical violence (aka wrestling!)
Summary: Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall. (Confucius)
Kazuchika Okada stood alone in the large building, adjusting his elbow pads listlessly, as he looked out at the ring.
"Raining...of course."
His mood was as gray and dreary as the overcast sky above him; and even the normally exciting and terrifying prospect of facing Minoru Suzuki failed to raise his spirits.
As they often did since Dominion, Okada's thoughts turned to Kenny, to their amazing match, to his now-lost IWGP Heavyweight Championship.
He felt naked without it around his waist, and he honestly missed the weight of it on his shoulder and in his arms. Kazuchika regretted ever complaining about any of it—about his opponents, about the weight of the belt, about the pressure of being the champion.
If he could, right now, he'd trade everything he owned to have it all back again.
A small sigh escaped the Rainmaker's lips as he watched the other matches unfold. Despite the downpour, everyone seemed to be having a good time.
The tiniest spark of bitterness flashed in his chest, and Okada placed a hand lightly over where his heart was. He couldn't yet decide if he hated Kenny Omega for how he beat him, or if he was simply jealous that Kenny had the support of so many people who so obviously loved him. Or maybe it was some combination of emotions.
On top of it all, over the of loss, and anger, and envy, there was something else rattling around in Kazu's scattered thoughts since That Match. Gedo had stared at him for a long time in the days following, finally shaking his head and telling Okada to get a fucking grip.
Are you serious?! How can you even imagine what I'm going through?
That was his standard response to those who asked, although he made sure to phrase it graciously enough, if he replied with words at all.
Most of the time, though, he just gave people the same, listless stare. Since The Loss, he refused to climb the turnbuckles and do his signature Rainmaker pose.
He didn't feel worthy of it.
'Ah, that's the emotion,' Okada realized eventually. 'I feel worthless. And lost. Who am I?'
Well, whoever he was, he was about to face Suzuki on the 30th anniversary of his wrestling career, in a match that was greatly hyped by the media, the company, the fans, and their fellow wrestlers.
Kazuchika almost felt guilty; obviously, Suzuki held him in high enough regard to request a match with him, but...
"This is a fucking farce," he whispered to no one in particular. "I should just go home-"
All at once, Okada felt himself shoved, hard; and he barely had time to turn around to prevent his face from colliding with the nearby wall.
Mercifully, his back hit hard, driving the wind out of his body as he tried to stare down his attacker.
Although he shouldn't have been surprised, Kazu's eyes grew wide as he came face-to-face with Minoru Suzuki.
"What the fuck are you in here daydreaming about over here?"
Suzuki was dressed in all white, a stunning parody of an angel. Even his hair was dyed nearly blond, his eyes glowing with excitement and...
Something else?
Okada tried to push away from the wall, but Suzuki shoved him back, holding him there with a boot against his chest.
"Why are you so weak today?" the Leader of Suzuki-gun asked with a sneer, already sensing blood in the water. "Hey, you better make it fun for me out there, or I swear, I'll make you regret it."
As before, Okada couldn't even muster the genuine fear he usually felt being so close to this particular man. He more or less shrugged at Suzuki's threat...which swiftly earned him a hard kick in the gut as punishment.
"Don't be a brat," Minoru growled as the former IWGP Heavyweight Champion sank to his knees. He took Okada's chin into his hand and forced the younger man to lift his gaze.
"As much as I love seeing you in this position," he began, an evil smile curling his lips, "You better get your shit together, and quick. You'll die out there."
Kazuchika barely tracked Suzuki's words, anger burning in his heart like fire.
"Fuck you," he grit out between his teeth; and faster than his eyes could follow, Suzuki's hand was around his throat.
"Listen, brat: You lost. It hurts. Get over it. Do you know why I choose you?"
He paused to let Okada answer, which was of course impossible with the hand currently cutting off his air supply.
"I picked you, Okada-kun, because you are a great wrestler. I picked you, because you understand the joy of fighting face-to-face in the ring. I choose you because you represent everything I love about wrestling...just like him.
"That's why I love fighting him, and hurting him; it's why I love fighting and hurting you, too."
It didn't take Okada long to figure out that him meant Tanahashi; and the mention of the Ace's name made the fire in his heart burn even hotter.
So many shadows in his heart.
Kenny. Tanahashi. Ibushi. Even Shinsuke in some ways.
The Rainmaker was finally able to pull away from Suzuki's grasp, taking in ragged breaths as he sat back against the wall. He half-expected to be kicked in the head.
But Minoru just looked down at him. There was almost a look of compassion on his face.
"It's raining," he said suddenly, randomly. "Even the damn gods favor you, you insufferable brat."
Okada puzzled over Suzuki's words as the man turned to walk away.
Their match was next.
Kazuchika stood slowly, collecting himself, and putting on his ring jacket. As always, the stones and jewels embedded in the soft gold fabric dazzled him, made him feel more like the golden star he used to be.
'Golden Star,' he thought with a sneer, an image of Kota Ibushi flashing in his mind, followed closely, as always, by Kenny Omega.
'I'll show them both; I'll show them all.'
Okada checked himself in the reflection of a mirror, a hint of a smile finally coming to his face.
Maybe Suzuki was right.
He stepped out into the rain, which only started falling harder. The cool water instantly soaked him, wetting his hair, seeping into his eyes, and in between his clothing. It was calming, and almost nice to feel the water flowing around him.
Okada lifted his head, letting himself get fully drenched. Distantly, he could hear the roar of the crowd—thousands of people, being similarly baptized, all of them currently cheering for him.
The dull fog that had settled over his soul the last few weeks at last began to dissipate. The sorrow that weighed so heavily on his head washed away with the rain. And the burning bitterness was at last cleansed in the fire of his resolve and determination.
Kenny's name entered into his mind once again; and this time, Kazuchika didn't feel angry or jealous.
He walked purposefully to the ring, everything covered in the blessing of the Sky Gods. He climbed the turnbuckle as he had not done in so long, in too long, spread his arms, threw back his head. The energy of the people and the purity of the rain cleansed away the last bits of darkness from his soul.
Okada wasn't sure when, exactly, the tears had started to fall; but he could taste their salty warmth as he climbed down to watch Suzuki make his grand entrance.
Anticipation, fear, and excitement blazed in his heart at the sight.
This was the first true challenge of his soul after Dominion. His first chance to be forged again, even more strongly in the fires of battle.
Okada bounced on his feet as Suzuki readied himself in the corner, realizing for the first time since June just how light he felt without the title.
He knew, immediately, that he was going to enjoy this fight. He knew, instinctively, the the fun was in the battle itself, as much as the outcome. He knew, without a doubt, that he was not going to lose today.
Hell, I might even enjoy having Suzuki torture me this time.
After two years of being the IWGP Heavyweight Champion, Kazuchika Okada could feel the winds of change blowing in his blond hair.
And this time, he was going to enjoy the whole ride.
Fall down seven times; get up eight. (Proverb)